


An Escape From The Sun

by LonleyHooman



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Danger, Fainting, For what it's worth I really like this, Gen, Horror, Human Frank Iero, M/M, Scary, Slow Build, Suspense, Vampire Bites, Vampire Gerard Way, Vampires, kind of, vampire kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonleyHooman/pseuds/LonleyHooman
Summary: Gerard was out hunting for too long and when the sun started rising, he decided to sneak into a random apartment to hide from it.Possibly also getting a meal.And playing with his food before he does... (Frank's pov)Basically my vampire obsession (and maybe kink) translated into a sexy horror-themed fic because why not.
Relationships: Frank Iero & Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	An Escape From The Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All The Wicked Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/559127) by [samanthahirr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthahirr/pseuds/samanthahirr). 



> Trigger warnings just in case:  
> -Blood and gore  
> -Horror  
> -Descriptions of scary stuff I guess (monsters, criminals, graphic horror movie stuff basically)  
> -Vampire bites with dubious consent :/  
> -Mild and censored adult language (only twice but still)
> 
> most of this is in the tags but I wanted to be safe :)
> 
> Have fun reading!

Frank let out a sigh. Finally, he was done.  
He had spent the last two hours cleaning up his room. Which honestly needed it. But it wasn't Frank's fault he only got motivated enough to do it when the state of his room was so bad he wouldn't be surprised to find rats hiding in a random drawer and the time was at the very least later than one AM. This time it was particularly bad too. Like no-dishes-left-in-the-kitchen and hasn't-seen-a-clean-patch-of-floor-since-his-mom-visited bad. He was about to sit on his bed but decided to let the sheets enjoy being perfect for a little longer. He couldn't remember his bed ever being that clean.

He sat down on his desk chair with a low grunt and immediately reached for his phone. Already inhaling the warm vanilla smell coming from the candle he didn't even know he had before.  
  
The screen read '5:17 AM' as he opened the phone and felt his muscles relax. He was no stranger to staying up this late. In fact, he loved it. Those hours between the evening and morning, when everyone's asleep and the darkness keeps everything a mystery are his favorite time of day. Everything just felt better at night. In the darkness. He often found his mind wandering, thinking about what was happening between those menacing shadows right outside his house. The terrifying monsters with razor-sharp claws and black eyes searching for unsuspecting victims. Vicious demons lurking in the corner. Tortured souls drifting along the roads, not quite touching them. Danger beneath the pitch-black sky and the stars silently watching above. Even just the faint images in his mind of dark eyes peeking up from the sewers or blood dripping down a wall sent a tantalizing wave of adrenaline through his veins. He savored that small shiver up his back and the air spreading through his lungs for a moment. Eyes not focusing on the screen. Just on the feeling of fear.

He knew he was probably supposed to go to sleep instead of sitting in his chair with no good reason to stay awake and thinking about random horror movie plots coming to life but he also didn't really have a good reason to go to sleep either. It was a weekend and he didn't have any plans for the next day. Or that day, technically. Besides, it was already too late to go to sleep at a reasonable time. He thought he might end up pulling a casual all-nighter. Just for the sake of it. He didn't have an actual plan which usually meant he would but until then he decided he would make coffee. Might as well, he shrugged mentally.  
He walked out of his room and into the kitchen. The cold wind followed him inside and he noticed a tiny bit of light creep into the sky in the open window way back in the living room.

When he got to the counter his actions were pretty much automatic. He grabbed a cup. Filled it with water. Poured it in the kettle. Switched it on. Coffee. Sugar. Spoon. And waited, leaning against it.

He jumped when the switch flipped up, indicating the water has boiled. He deftly poured it in the mug, careful not to burn himself, and soon enough his coffee was ready and he was slowly creeping back into his room. Careful not to pour any of the scorching liquid on himself. Or worse, the floor.  
He did not want to clean that up.

The first thing he noticed when he walked inside was the smell of smoke replacing the familiar scent of coffee in the air. His eyes immediately jumped to the candle he left burning earlier, which was now smoking. He looked inside it to see what happened, coffee abandoned, but nothing stood out. He's never seen a candle do that but then he also never uses candles. He took out a match and tried to light the candle again, to see if there was something wrong with it. But it simply caught fire as if it were never extinguished in the first place. He closed the window.

After that he sat back down and started drinking the coffee, he felt the heat run down his throat, and the scent flood his lungs. And for a moment he managed to settle down. He grabbed his phone and unlocked the screen.

He was just randomly scrolling through social media with his coffee, contemplating watching a horror movie. Not really focused on anything. Until he heard a small noise in the living room. It sent a wave of focus down his tensing body. There was nothing there. Not really. But Frank only went back to breathing a moment later. Eyes looking up but not really seeing. He decided to check on it. He was already a bit jittery. Might as well go and enjoy the suspense. Though he still felt some genuine dread building in his chest as he went.

The floor of the hallway was freezing beneath his bare feet. Burning into the sensitive skin. And he noticed the way his chest felt a bit heavy. Breathing just a little faster. His senses slightly on edge. He half mindedly pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. But of course, when he got there. Nothing strange was happening. No murderer in the corner with a bloody knife or a burglar with a ski mask and wooden bat. Shocking.

He turned around to get back to his room, smiling to himself when he immediately did a double-take at the window. Ice spread down his body when he noticed the blinds were shut. He did not remember shutting them. But he did. He must have. It was late at night. He didn't get any sleep. He probably forgot. Hell, he could barely remember making his coffee. He read something about this. With things you do often, that sometimes you do them out of habit and your brain doesn't focus, doesn't bother to register them or something. Cause it's on autopilot and it's not vital information. He didn't shut the blinds that often but it's not exactly important information to remember or like, crucial to his survival that he remembered the exact way he shut the blinds every single time he did it. All the windows had their blinds shut. He even noticed the blinds in his bedroom were shut when he got back, forcing his shoulders to go down. He probably shut them earlier with the window and forgot about it. He didn't even bother himself with asking why. Though he was still tense. Jumpy. He knew he looked scared. Hunched in on himself. Eyeing the floor. Restless. Something felt off. He dragged his chair further into a corner and sat down with his knees up. Grabbing his phone again. He considered checking the candle thing but it felt like a waste of time. He reached his hand for the now cold coffee but paused with only the tips of his fingers touching the mug. He knew there was nothing to worry about but his stupid brain wouldn't let the thought go away.  
What if it was poisoned?  
  
He knew it wasn't possible. At least not in his own empty house. It just couldn't happen. He was scaring himself too much. The lack of sleep affecting him, probably. He looked at the coffee. It was a slightly different color than before. Or it wasn't and Frank was just convincing himself of things. He was almost angry with himself. He was getting scared of nothing and letting his sleep-deprived mind talk him out of drinking a perfectly good cup of coffee. It was stupid. He was mad at himself for letting it happen. It's impossible. There's no one hiding in his house and trying to drug him. No creepy stalker with cameras or painting with moving eyes. He needed to get his mind under control.  
Mostly out of daring and partial embarrassment he wrapped his hand around the mug. Rolling his eyes. There was nothing other than coffee in it and he was just gonna take a sip of the bitter liquid and enjoy it. And then probably not be able to go to sleep but that's a different story. He felt the edge of the cold mug against his lips and only hesitated a little before forcing the brown liquid down his throat. Feeling it slide down into his system. He paused, subconsciously waiting for something (or nothing) to happen. Nothing did. And then the lights switched off.  
  
He gasped and sat up before he realized what was happening. Someone turned the lights off. It was pitch-black and Frank was helpless. He couldn't see a thing and his mind could only fill the blanks with horrifying monsters. A clawed slimy hand grabbing his wrist. A dagger heading for his heart. The sound of a ghost screaming in agony. Every single cell in his body was begging him to run away from the shadows and their secrets. But he couldn't see and his head was spinning. He was at the mercy of the dark and whatever it held. His hope was gone and his mind frantic when the lights switched back on. He had to shut his eyes until they adjusted and he opened them. They automatically darted around the room, looking for the threat. Any source of danger. He was frozen. Stuck in place. Desperately trying and eventually succeeding in slowing his breathing down when his eyes found nothing. No danger. No reason to be scared. Just something wrong with the power. His hands were still held up to his chest in fists. The light flickered again. Laughing at him. And he noticed the faint smell of smoke in the air.

This was all a joke. The universe making fun of him. God was probably somewhere up in the sky eating popcorn. Watching Frank go insane. Frank felt insane. No matter what he did he couldn't shake the terror. He was terrified. Fists shaking against his frantically beating heart that felt like it was gonna shoot out of his chest.

There was a perfectly logical explanation to all of this and yet he couldn't shake the absolute horror that flooded his body and the adrenaline running in his veins. His mouth was dry and he had a lump in his throat and he was shaking and panting and he couldn't stop. A shiver crawled down his spine when he heard the tv turn on. It's just the power outage. Please let it be the power outage he begged. He didn't want to go check but he also couldn't stop himself.

Before his brain knew what it was doing Frank was walking down the hallway. His legs moving completely on their own while nearly giving out under him at the same time. The way to the living room felt agonizingly long, unlike the first time he passed it. After which he came back to his candle mysteriously smoking. Images of demons and monsters casually sitting on the couch appeared in his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about someone, or something waiting for him in there. It was almost like he could feel it there, in his living room. Ready to jump and ravage him with sharp teeth and bulging eyes.  
  
He was walking slowly, like a limping zombie. He was nervous. Almost impatient. Some part of him was desperate to see what happened and another part of him was begging to go back into his room and never come out, Because he had a heavy feeling in his chest. Telling him something evil was waiting for him. Counting his every step, listening to every single breath.  
But he couldn't stop. He couldn't make his legs stop moving. He couldn't even imagine turning his back on the living room to get away, leaving it exposed. He remembered leaving his phone behind and considered calling someone but it was too late, he realized.  
As he was looking into the living room.  
  
He found no one. He shakily grabbed the remote, moving fast, feeling eyes on his back in the wall-less environment, and turning it off. He then walked back to the hallway and to the room, faster than he ever had before. He felt vulnerable, scared, oddly desperate in a way. He didn't know what for.

When he got inside, everything went faster than he could even comprehend it. His eyes landed on the bed and his body shivered because the sheets were wrinkled. 'Someone was here' his sheets yelled at him. Desperately trying to warn him. But he couldn't process it. His mind refused to accept the mere possibility of that and he couldn't even try to because the light switch was flicked down behind him and the room was dark once more. He turned his back to the bed automatically trying to spot the cause for the noise. Breath catching in his throat and seeing nothing due to the absolute and terrifyingly blank darkness. Then, he heard a match strike its box behind him. His head spun as he turned back around to his bed. And he watched it spark innocently, light on fire, and hover towards his vanilla-scented candle. Illuminating the face of a pale man sitting at the spot on the bed that was empty and wrinkled a moment before.

Frank's breath caught in his throat as he stared at him in horror. The man's eyes eyeing him with interest, but mostly confidence. In fact, everything about him screamed confidence, his unconcerned position, leaning back, neck exposed. Smirking menacingly. Holding the flaming candle in one hand, the only source of light, flame dancing threateningly.

The man didn't take his eyes off Frank's as he blew on the match. Daring him to react with his eyes. When Frank didn't he stood up, still holding the candle, and tossed the match on the floor, it disappeared in the shadows. Frank took a step back when the man took a step forward. The man curiously tilted his head at Frank's reaction and took another step forward. Frank stood his ground this time, he wasn't sure if he was actually being defiant or just paralyzed from fear but it didn't really matter at the moment. The man straightened his head and looked Frank up and down with his eyes, momentarily pausing at his neck. Frank didn't react. But the intensity of the man's gaze made him instinctively look towards his door. Just for a moment. When he turned his head back to the man he was still looking at him with the same scrutinizing and yet somehow amused gaze.

He was still looking in Frank's eyes when the man's voice rang through the quiet room, "You can run if you want."  
His voice was deep, challenging, and somewhat alluring. He sounded powerful. Like he could crush you to dust in his palm and blow you away like glitter.

"But that's only if you want me to chase after you," He continued, and frank was already lightheaded from his erratic breathing. He could barely think. "I'll catch you eventually, but it's your choice, really," The man was acting as if he was giving Frank another option, but also like he knew Frank didn't stand a chance against him. He was keeping a level of elegance to himself, his body language, his tone. His eyes. He felt like a bomb wrapped in silk, dangerous, and alluring. Like poison poured in a fancy glass. Frank couldn't help his fascination.

"If putting up a fight makes you feel better, please, be my guest," He eyed Frank, practically winking without actually doing so and added, "I'm not afraid of a challenge."

And Frank's brain was telling him to be one. To scream and run until his throat burns and his legs collapse or head for the kitchen and get a knife or just throw a chair at the man. His brain was screaming at him, begging him to grasp at any chance he has at survival, no matter how slim. But another part of him he couldn't pin down didn't want to lift a finger. Or couldn't, he was paralyzed with fear. Unable to move from his own room. But also, intrigued, fascinated, and even enchanted.

Every single survival instinct in his body was itching to get away, muscles tense and ready to bolt, but a small part of him was there, like a little devil on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. Telling him not to leave, to stay, to get closer. Just a little bit.

He was entranced, the elegance of the man, the power bubbling beneath the surface, buzzing under the skin. That man was dangerous. Not like an animal- wild and messy.  
He was elegant, confident, alluring. Beautiful. The little devil on his shoulder was getting louder. Don't go. Not yet.

The urge to run was like a dull buzz in the back of his head now. He was stuck in the house, in the dark, the only source of light in the hand of his enemy. He might as well try to look brave.

Frank was still looking at the man, lips slightly parted now, he still had a menacing smile on his pale face, eyes never straying away from Frank. Picking up every single micro-movement. Like he could hear every single thought in Frank's head. He made Frank feel small.

When the man realized Frank wasn't going to move he grinned, a strange hunger in his eyes. And for a moment Frank thought he saw satisfaction.

They were both standing in silence, in the middle of the room. The air felt as thick as honey in frank's lungs, and the tension was almost tangible. Frank almost wanted him to speak, he didn't know why, but he wanted to hear him talk. Maybe get a little more information about what was happening. Because the silence was starting to drill into his mind and he felt like the suspense was pushing down on him more and more with each second. But he also dreaded whatever was coming his way. Because he knew the man wasn't going to just get up and leave him alone.

"Not a runner, huh," The man spoke. Voice still deep. And still confident as ever. And Frank didn't know how or why, but he answered him, "Guess not," immediately second-guessing himself.  
His voice wasn't as strong as he would've wanted but he did have a stranger in his house. And he did sound a lot more confident than he was. He hoped it was the right move to make because nothing about the man changed. He revealed nothing. No reaction and Frank could only hope he was making the right choices.  
As if to test Frank's courage, he took another step forward. They weren't that far apart now. And the candle was still in the man's hand, the flame reflecting in his eyes. Frank couldn't help suppress his inhale. He felt like there wasn't enough oxygen in the world to fill his lungs, and his hands were still trembling. He wondered if his clothes were flammable and realized how much power that man had over him at that moment. He could imagine the man laughing at him in his head. Using Frank's lame attempt at confidence to get closer, gain even more of an advantage, see how much he could take before he fell apart. But it was way too late for Frank to run now. He had to face his decision. Hoping whatever he was doing wasn't a horrible mistake.

The man spoke again, "What are you then? you're scared, I can tell," he huffed in amusement at Frank's fear, Frank didn't know if it meant he was used to people being scared of him.  
He looked just a bit less wicked and a little more curious now, Frank hoped he was being interesting. He wasn't sure why.  
He couldn't answer though. He could barely answer the question of why the f*ck he's still standing there. And the stakes were higher than ever.

Frank jumped as he kept talking "Pupils blown wide, tense muscles, shallow breathing," he listed, making Frank even more aware of how terrified he felt and how obvious it was. He spoke slower when he added "Blood flow directed to the brain and large muscles," he looked up and smiled as he was talking, like he was remembering something funny. "Your body wants you to run," he went on, and leaned in to whisper near Frank's ear, Franks hands in fists and shivers climbing up his spine. "Why won't you run?"

Frank was shoved up against a wall before he could answer. His pulse hammering in his ears, and the man's cold breath on his cheek. He was more than ready to run now but the man was way too strong for him to move an inch. He somehow managed to put the candle down on a cabinet in a matter of moments and Frank felt his head spin as it tried to process everything that was happening. He could feel the man's firm grip on his shoulders, and the cold wall behind him and he could hear himself breathing rapidly. He was helpless. At the mercy of some lunatic that somehow broke into his house. The entire night flashed in his mind. The candle blowing out. The blinds seemingly shutting themselves, the lights turning off and the tv turning on. It was all him.  
He shuddered at the thought of that man watching him get scared from the shadows, but how could he not have seen him? how did he not notice?  
One of the man's hands moved from Frank's shoulder to his throat, the skin of his palm cold against Frank's skin, and Frank couldn't look away from his face. He was more like an animal now. Wild and feral and hungry. Frank was doomed.

They locked eyes and he heard the man's voice saying "Too late," before the hand at his throat turned his head away faster than humanly possible. All he could see were the candle-lit walls for a moment and then he had to shut his eyes from the pain. At first, all he could feel was horrible stinging in his neck as his vision went white. When he could focus a little better and open his eyes, it felt like someone stabbed him in the neck. It burned. And the only explanation suddenly flooded his head. It made sense, like the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place right in front of his eyes.  
The reason the man shut the blinds. How he could move so fast. How Frank had no idea he was even in the house.  
Frank shivered.

He was already lightheaded from everything that was happening and he could barely focus. His head was spinning almost faster than his heart, which he could hear beating at light speed in his ears. He was barely aware of himself. Shaking, and he could recall distantly hearing himself cry out from the pain. All the thoughts in his head were spinning around so fast his vision was starting to blur.  
  
His brain was spiraling and he wasn't sure he knew what was going on as his eyes slipped shut. He couldn't even think. His mind was paralyzed.  
Cold was spreading through his limbs. His no-longer-fisted-hands were starting to tingle, like stars in the pitch-black sky. He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. It was like it stopped working. Like everything just froze.

  


He felt his body slump, and let out a slow breath. Growing weaker and weaker. It was a strange kind of weakness. It felt like he was melting. Like all his muscles were buzzing with pleasant numbness and trying to pull him down with them. The little devil was still whispering in his ear. Telling him to let go, to give in.  
He was more than tempted to.  
  
He could feel his arms relaxing and he was having a very hard time holding them up, not to mention holding himself up. The man was supporting more and more of his weight as he was succumbing to the weakness. A tantalizing feeling was coursing through his veins. Brain fuzzy behind his forehead. He imagined that's what it felt like to be sedated. To be one of those people in the crime shows getting a chloroformed rag forced over their face or being injected with a tranquilizer. It was overwhelming.  
He was helpless, powerless. At the mercy of the man he could feel holding him up. Wrapping his arms around Frank's waist, making sure he doesn't fall. Frank's neck barely hurt anymore. He was barely aware of anything, all the fear sucked out of him and replaced with nothing but a strange bliss as his eyes roll back into his head. It was like a mix of every single drug in the world.  
  
He distantly felt himself falling forward as his legs got too weak to hold him up, and he could feel the man effortlessly hold him. Placing his hands under Frank's back so he's leaning on him. Neck lolling backward, completely exposed. Frank felt nothing but blank bliss, as he was pulled under at a dizzying speed. Muscles humming calmly. Fluff flowed through every single cell in his body. Every single trace of awareness or fear being sucked out of him. Contentment settling in their place. It felt good. The pleasure pulling him under. Like he was at the beach, tantalizing waves of euphoria flowing towards him, every single one dragging him lower and lower. And it felt too good not to let the waves carry him away from the shore and deeper into the ocean. Streams of water guiding him and body weakly allowing the streams to carry him wherever they please.  
  
It felt addictive. That man felt addictive. Frank didn't know how he ended up on the floor but he could feel the cold spread through his back. His eyes cracked open just enough to see the man looming over him. Satisfaction shining in his face and grin. He could see his fangs now, red with Frank's blood. He knew he was on the floor but it felt like he was still falling. Like he was at the top of a whirlpool and it was still making his consciousness spiral downwards. Until he reached the bottom.  
  
The man knelt down next to him looking elegant as ever. It was a strange feeling. Like Frank had pressed a velvety red button without knowing what it would trigger. Just to feel the smooth velvet slide against his fingers, and get the satisfaction of hearing the button click. The man bent over so that he was almost on top of Frank. As his face got lower, and closer to Frank's. Frank could feel his mind going lower. Eyelids heavier and heavier. As the world spun around him. His ears were ringing and spots were dancing in his vision. Eventually, the spots spread and covered everything, and his eyes slipped shut. As his mind slipped away into the dark bliss. The world melting away like a dream.

***

Frank's eyes opened. He's in his bed. Huh.  
The light hurt his eyes and he had to close them for a moment.  
Forcing his muscles to push him into a sitting position, his hand drifted to his forehead. Which was pounding like someone was repeatedly punching it from the inside. His brain is a fuzzy mess. And his whole head is aching. No, his whole body is aching. Just sitting up made him light-headed and caused dark spots to dance in his vision. He nearly vomited. But instead, he collapsed back down, shutting his eyes.

After a few moments he opened his eyes again. Drowsily looking around the room. It felt like he was seeing through a thick layer of fog, yet, one thing flashed through, clear as day. He froze upon seeing it. Senses refining.  


There is a small, half-burned, match on his floor.

**Author's Note:**

> He survived don't worry.
> 
> Also just a few notes to clarify everything:  
> 1\. As a vampire Gerard has a bit of an advantage to help him hunt which I kind of called "the devil" which basically lures people in.  
> 2\. Some of the bite's effects on Frank were from the vampire venom and some were from the blood loss but I researched it and Gerard didn't take too much so Frank's pretty much fine.
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading and I hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it❤️❤️❤️  
> This was heavily inspired by samanthahirr's fic "All The Wicked Shadows" so please do yourself a favor and read it. I linked it above and it's honestly amazing💕
> 
> Also, It would make me unimaginably happy if you left kudos and told me what you liked and didn't like in a comment because my heart stops whenever I get one and it absolutely makes my day :)❤️


End file.
